


Code Name: Punxutawney

by tryxchange



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Aliases, Dialogue Heavy, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 05:55:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18131816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryxchange/pseuds/tryxchange
Summary: A conversation about codenames.Look, sometimes my brain links things up, ok, and then you all get to look at the resulting mess.





	Code Name: Punxutawney

"We should have code names," Klaus says brightly, almost before the blue time swirl has stopped making them all dizzy.

Allison coughs, disengages her hands, checks her throat. It's unblemished. She's twelve again, or thirteen, or whatever age this is. Dad would call it their prime, probably. "We do," she says. "Mine's Allison."

"God, we're fucked up." That's Vanya. It sounds even weirder coming from her at thirteen than from Five. Five always was a psychopathic little weirdo, but Vanya was painfully polite as a child.

And that turned out well, didn't it?

Oh God on a bicycle, is _he_ thirteen too? Maybe he'll avoid checking, just for now. "I could be Wednesday. You'd be Monday, obviously, Allison."

"Why?" She's noticed their bodies too, and she's smiling over at Luther.

Gross.

"After me, you're the prettiest. I _would_ be Monday, but I'm much too woeful. So it's up to you." 

No one speaks. Either they're gearing up to ignore him, and haven't we learned anything here at the end of the world?, or they're all taking in their surroundings. 

Klaus doesn't need to. Five days before the Apocalypse, Dad's spilled ashes a grungy streak on the ground. It's the world's worst Groundhog Day.

Vanya stops patting her face and her hair. "Thursday," she says, pointing to Five, who mutters "leave me out of this, please."

Klaus bobs and grins. "Exactly! Some people have no culture, but I knew you'd get it."

"And Tuesday is Diego," she goes on. "But what about the rest?"

"You're the only one of us who's held down a steady job," Klaus points out, to general protests from everyone but Ben. "All right, a _normal_ job. Samples on the moon, movie star, time traveling assassin, vigilante, addict, dead. Published author!" He turns his jabbing finger into jazz hands.

"Violinist," Vanya corrects after another awkward silence.

"Too soon? Still? Whatever, Saturday."

"So am I Sunday, or is that Luther?" Ben asks. For the first time in ages, Klaus waits for a beat in case anyone else heard him too. No such luck.

"I mean he's the least gay of all of us, but Dad certainly thought the sun shone out of his ass," Klaus mutters. "And no one would accuse good old number one of generosity."

"Thanks," says Luther. Funny, Klaus is always surprised when the big guy manages sarcasm.

"You're welcome, Sunday."

"Good and giving, huh?" Ben says with a wry twist to his lips.

"Yeah, well. Thanks for sticking around."

"You're full of something, alright," says Diego, "but I wouldn't call it woe."

**Author's Note:**

> Monday's child is fair of face  
> Tuesday's child is full of Grace  
> Wednesday's child is full of woe  
> Thursday's child has far to go  
> Friday's child is loving and giving  
> Saturday's child works hard for a living  
> And the child that is born on the Sabbath day  
> Is bonny and blithe and good and gay
> 
> ——————————
> 
> Yeah, I don't know.


End file.
